


the last five years

by towokuwusatsuwu



Category: Kamen Rider Ex-Aid
Genre: Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 07:59:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13477119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/towokuwusatsuwu/pseuds/towokuwusatsuwu
Summary: Kiriya has been tracking Kuroto down and finally has him where he wants him.





	the last five years

Only two sounds were loud enough to stay front and center in Kujo Kiriya’s mind; the slap of his shoes against the wet pavement beneath them and the pulsing throb of his own heartbeat in his ears. How long had he been running? He had lost track. No one had expected Dan Kuroto to have this stamina, not for something like running, not when nothing Kiriya knew about him would suggest he indulged in any physical activity. Maybe it was survival instinct kicking in. After all, if Kuroto pulled his weapon on Kiriya, Kiriya had license to take him down.

Kuroto had already gunned down two officers and injured a third, and Kiriya was not about to let himself get added to that list. For the last five years, he had been chasing Kuroto with the intent to bring him in and serve him the justice he deserved. He had taken out Kiriya’s last two partners, his longtime friend Jungo and the newest transfer to his department, Kagami Hiiro. Neither of them had expected Kuroto to do literally anything it took to escape.

Kiriya knows him better than that. He knows that even a moment’s hesitation will be enough for Kuroto to find a weakness and exploit it. He had gotten to the very top of his gang by killing his own father and upheaving the entire network of yakuza bosses across several cities in the process. Nothing was beyond his reach now; no one could stop him.

Except Kiriya. And he was not going to let Kuroto escape now.

Kuroto turned a sharp right and Kiriya took it a moment later, his shoulder scraping against the rough bricks, painful even through the sleeves of his jacket and shirt. Ahead, he watched Kuroto nimbly scale a fence in half the time it would have taken most men; he had clearly prepared for the inevitability of being chased down city streets he knows better than anyone else.

But of course he does. He had made these streets his domain for the last five years.

Kiriya was going to take them back from him. No spoiled rich boy was going to keep his city in the palm of his hand just for the hell of it. No one was going to keep the citizens in permanent uncertainty and fear. He was going to make sure he took Kuroto down tonight, whether that meant taking him in alive or rolling him into the morgue in a bodybag.

_ “Kujo!” _ The tinny sound of Hojo Emu’s voice in his ear made Kiriya grit his teeth; he had been blocking out everything and now his attention was splitting.  _ “He’s heading for the warehouse three blocks up. We’ve got the place surrounded from the outside. Once he’s in, he’s yours.” _

Hojo was a new transfer, too, whip-smart with electronics and with quicker wits than Kiriya expected when he met him for the first time. The two of them had become a team of their own after Kiriya refused another partner; seeing Kagami dead on a slab had decided him on just how eager he was to lose another partner. Kagami wasn’t well-suited for the job in the first place, but it didn’t change the fact no one deserved to die at Kuroto’s hands.

“Got it,” Kiriya grunts into the microphone on his collar, his hand rising to his jacket pocket, feeling for the shape of his gun beneath the fabric. “I’ll bring him in dead or alive.”

_ “If you bring him in dead, it’s paperwork. But it’s less hassle.” _ Hojo sounded like he was seriously weighing the pros and cons of Kiriya gunning Kuroto down in the next few minutes, and Kiriya grins despite himself. The kid has a solid head on his shoulders, if nothing else.

He lets himself laugh even if it takes a little necessary oxygen. “I’ll fucking take it.”

The warehouse looms up ahead in the darkness and Kiriya doesn’t know how so much concrete disappeared beneath his shoes in such a short amount of time. Certainly, he doesn’t remember running that far this fast, but losing time meant nothing to him. All he cared about was the dark shape ahead of him and what it would mean when they came face to face.

As soon as the warehouse door slams shut behind Kiriya, Kuroto turns to face him, his face still splattered with Hanaya Taiga’s blood. He was still conscious the last time Kiriya had seen him; he can only hope that Hanaya is still alive.

“My men are positioned at every entrance of this building.” Kiriya draws his gun, grips it tight in both hands but keeps it on the ground for now. Pointing it at Kuroto won’t do him any good, after all. “You aren’t getting out of here unless you’re in handcuffs or a body bag. It’s up to you, Kuroto. It doesn’t have to end in even more death.”

Kuroto laughs, the sound more hysterical than it is human, and goosebumps crawl along Kiriya’s spine at the sound. “You think I’m that worried about living? Believe me, Kujo, it’s the last thing on my mind.”

The sound of his name on Kuroto’s lips makes Kiriya grit his teeth and he tips his head back, taking a deep inhale to steady his nerves. “So, how are we doing this? You decide.”

“Why don’t I let you decide? You want to take me in, right? Why don’t you choose how I go in?” Kuroto spreads his arms wide, the dim lighting in the warehouse casting his shadow long and dark across the floor, an inhuman shape for a man Kiriya is certain lost his humanity long ago. “Tell me, Kujo. Do you want to take me in alive or dead?”

“It doesn’t matter to me. You don’t matter to me. The only thing that matters to me is that your reign of terror ends tonight.” Kiriya’s hands twitch. He wants to point the gun at Kuroto, get that space right between his eyes. It won’t bring his partners back, but maybe they’ll rest a little easier just the same.

Kuroto takes a step toward him and Kiriya swings the gun up, a silent warning. “Well, well. Go ahead. Pull the trigger. I know you want me dead.”

“If you don’t give me a reason to pull the trigger, then I don’t have to do it.” It doesn’t matter if Kiriya wants him dead. If Kuroto doesn’t give him a reason, then he isn’t going to let temptation take over. He’s not going to be the pettier man between the two of them. Not now. Not after five long, long years. “Come on. Just give up. Go quietly. You’ll get a good lawyer and maybe you won’t be in your whole life. Maybe you will be, fuck, I don’t know and I don’t care. But it’s gotta be better than this bullshit, right? All this running?”

When Kuroto laughs at him again, Kiriya’s finger twitches. He doesn’t pull the trigger. He won’t let Kuroto bait him into doing it. “Running is easy. You don’t give me enough credit.”

_ “Kujo!” _ Hojo’s voice in his ear startles him and Kiriya’s hands tremble, a fine shiver running through his fingers.  _ “We’ve got explosions all over the damn city. Kuroto’s men must have set them before we could bring them all in. We gotta reroute some of your back-up.” _

“You can take them all. I don’t need them. This son of a bitch is dead center and I’m not going to let him get away this time,” Kiriya says.

Hojo is silent for a moment.  _ “You sure? I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. He’s been slipping between the cracks for the last five years, right? So we—” _

“If you think I can’t handle my job my damn self, then say it, Hojo. I don’t need back-up.” Kiriya watches Kuroto’s smile widen, stretching horrible and goblin-like across his face. His hair, slicked back and shiny in every photo Kiriya has had to stare at, is mussed and straggly across his forehead, threatening to fall into his eyes. He looks more of a mess than Kiriya feels right now, but somehow, that’s not much of a comfort. “Innocent civilians need more help than I do. Take the men and reroute them. I’ll bring Kuroto in with or without them.”

_ “Sorry. Not my place. Okay, I’m taking them. Let me know if you need anything.” _ Hojo’s voice is gone after that, and Kiriya feels the weight settling on his shoulders.

If he lets Kuroto get away, it’ll be all his fault this time. All of the effort spent trying to track him down will be wasted and there won’t be anything he can do to make it up to his partners.

“Looks like it’s going to be just the two of us. How intimate.” Kuroto raises both hands in the air, and Kiriya watches him silently, gripping his gun as tight as he can. “I have to say, Kujo, I’m excited at the prospect of spending the evening alone with you.”

“Shut the fuck up. I don’t want to hear it. Are you going to come in, or are we going to have a problem?” Jungo’s face. Kagami’s face. Dead, pale, on the table in front of him for identity. Kuroto had taken them both out execution-style. Neither of them had suffered, and yet…

Kuroto sighs and tips his head back, looks like he’s thinking about that; the expression makes Kiriya’s skin crawl just as much as the smile did. “Let a handsome man put me in handcuffs or play hard to get and make you keep trying. I have to say, it’s a difficult decision to make and not one that I’m particularly well-versed in making.”

“My patience is wearing thin and I don’t have all night to play games with you. People are out there dying because you and your men set bombs and they probably still need help.” Bombs, of all fucking things. Kiriya feels like he should have expected that from Kuroto. Loud, flashy, drawing attention, and taking out who knows how many people in the process.

Kuroto chuckles at him. “I couldn’t help that. Had to make sure the two of us were alone.”

“There’s no way you knew this was going to happen,” Kiriya argues.

“Don’t I? Who do you think let Hojo in on where I’d be? Why do you think I set those bombs to go off now? I lead you hear, didn’t I?” Kuroto looks so supremely proud of himself that Kiriya can feel his gut churning. “I wanted to talk to you one-on-one. We have such a long history together.”

Five years. Five fucking years. Kiriya keeps coming back to it, to when his life first became a living hell, when he was called in to identify his dead partner. It had lasted longer than all of Kiriya’s romantic relationships and just the comparison is enough to make him feel sick. But as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, it’s true. He and Kuroto have been doing this dance for so long that he doesn’t know what he’ll be doing when all of this is said and done.

The last thing he wants to do is be put on desk work but he could see a long future spent filing the paperwork for other officers. Treated as a break after nailing Kuroto, but it would be torture. Nothing has been as important to Kiriya as catching Kuroto. He doesn’t know if anything else could ever be that important, not really.

“You should have thought ahead a little more carefully,” Kuroto tells him, and Kiriya’s ears barely pick up on the sound of a shot firing. Not until he feels a burn through his abdomen and crumples, his gun slipping from his hands. “That will be all, Parado.”

Parado.  _ Paradox. _ The hacker who had been nailing their system, the one Hojo had been determined to beat and who had eluded him. Kiriya had no idea he was good with a gun.

He takes his eyes off of Kuroto, a lethal mistake; the next thing he sees is one perfectly shined shoe flying toward his face, the impact breaking his nose and sending him sprawling back on the greasy floor. Kuroto looms above him, tall and imposing, before he kneels down and picks up Kiriya’s gun from the ground.

“You should know I always have an ace up my sleeve. You should know I’d never let you in on all my secrets. You thought Parado was just a hacker. Another mistake, Kujo. Another failed arrest.” Kuroto smirks down at him and then shifts forward onto his knees, his arm curling around Kiriya’s shoulders, lifting him up just enough that he can press his lips against Kiriya’s ear. “I had a fun time this evening with you, though. More fun than the last time, and the last, and the last. Never stop chasing me. Maybe next time will be the last time. I hope that if it is, you’ll make it the best time.”

Kiriya laughs, copper heavy on his tongue. “Next time, Kuroto.”

“Next time.” Kuroto pecks him on the cheek and lets him thump back against the floor. “Let’s go, Parado. We have a train to catch.”

Kiriya waits for them to clear the door before coughing up blood. “Hojo, I’m gonna need you to send in back-up. I just got shot.”

_ “Fuck. Okay. Hold on.” _ Hojo sighs on the other end of the comm.  _ “We miss him?” _

“We did. Next time,” Kiriya assures him.

He just hopes he means it.


End file.
